


She's Just Amazing

by Hyululu



Category: Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hollis but a lady, Hollis is the only one who's gender swapped, Kinkmeme prompt fill, Rule 63, but maybe one day I'll wrap it up, unfinished fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:31:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7499481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyululu/pseuds/Hyululu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fill on the WM Kinkmeme</p><p>OP's request:<br/>Dan is inspired by Hollis Mason to become the new Nite Owl.<br/>In rule 63 fics, Danielle has been inspired by both Hollis and Holly Mason to become Nite Owl.<br/>I want a fic where *Daniel* becomes inspired by *Holly* Mason to become the new Nite Owl!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

Daniel Dreiberg loves birds. He pretty much always has. He loves their feathers, the patterns on them. He loves the gravity-defying spread of their wings, and the subtle reptilian grace of their feet. They're beautiful creatures, really. A remarkable evolution.  
He spends a lot of time studying birds. There's more than enough books to pilfer through, but Daniel really really enjoys just _watching_ them. Especially the bigger ones. Eagles, hawks, owls.   
Mostly owls.  
As a future ornithologist, he's got a genuine appreciation for any kind of bird, really. But owls are, hands down, his absolute #1. They're perfect killers. Their wings don't make a sound, their talons are accurate and deadly, their eyes can see almost anything despite the dark. Even their call is beautiful; Daniel loves to hear the haunting voice of a great horned owl, the screech of a barn owl. Anything, everything. They're really amazing.  
  
Something else is amazing as well: Nite Owl.   
The masks started showing up not too long ago, putting crime on its end and acting as a beacon of safety for the city. They're all brilliant, really. Daniel's read about them all at some point or another; They're in the papers, they're on the radio. Heroes. The Minutemen.  
One of them had caught his interest from the very moment he'd first read about her. A mask with an owl theme and the most surprising left-hook that no one expected could come from a woman. She's just down-right impressive. Daniel eats up every news print that boasted the name of Nite Owl, and he harbors a secret, boyish crush on this strigidae heroine. How could he _not_?  
  
He keeps a little scrapbook under his bed, full of newspaper clippings and the occasional magazine photo. A good handful of the clippings are about the Minutemen in general, but the majority of the hoard is Nite Owl, Nite Owl, Nite Owl. Her photos, her brave accomplishments, even a small interview that one reporter had happenstantially snagged with her just after a bank robbery.  
Daniel reads though it all over and over and over, and fantasizes about how Nite Owl, silent and lethal as her namesake, would swoop in on a crime in action, catch the bad-guys red-handed. She'd knock 'em one with that trademark left-hook; knock 'em flat! And then she'd be showered with praise and astonishment by the cops and all the people she'd just saved.  
Dan always puts the scrapbook away with a goofy smile on his face, and his head filled with ideas. Really nerdy ideas, that he'll never tell anyone.


	2. 2

There are awkward moments. Dan's parents don't have anything in particular against his boyhood infatuation, but his _friends_... Oh, they never let him live it down. Boys will be boys, after all. And in all the history of childhood, boys who like girls have always had cooties.  
  
“What's _this_?” Dan's neighbor and best friend, Matthew, hefts the scrapbook none too carefully from its place beneath Dan's bed. A handful of articles flutter from between the thick pages and drift like confetti to the floor. Matthew ignores the small mess and starts investigating his find.   
A picture of Nite Owl has come to rest on the floor by the boys' feet; She's posing as though ready to throw a punch, grinning openly. The photo has been scribbled on in ballpoint pen, a young boy's handwriting apparent. There's a word bubble, made to look as though Nite Owl is speaking, like in the comics. Every time Dan looks at the photo, Nite Owl flashes her grin and says, “Hey, Danny-boy!”  
  
Dan feels a steady heat creeping into his cheeks.  
  
Next to him, Matthew is gaping in awe at the scrapbook. “Hooded Justice!” he proclaims excitedly, as if photos and headlines didn't make it apparent. He sifts through Dan's collection with grubby hands, getting everything out of order, wrinkling paper. “Aw, you've even got stuff about the bad-guys! Here's when they got Captain Axis!”  
Dan hasn't said anything until now. For some reason, he felt embarrassed to have one of his friends looking through the scrapbook. He was busy hiding his reddening cheeks by bending down to pick up the clippings that had fallen, when the mention of Captain Axis piqued his attention. That was an arrest that Nite Owl had made. Within seconds Dan had dropped all the clippings he'd gathered, (all but the photo of his heroine) and was back at Matthew's side, eyes alight with sudden vigor.  
“Yeah!” he exclaimed, pointing to the article and its accompanying picture. “Captain Axis kept claiming he wanted to unite Nazi followers and stuff, but a lot of people thought he was a spy in the war. He was really hard to beat, too! But Nite Owl,” Dan's finger tapped at the appropriate face, like Matthew needed help to pick her out in the picture. “ _She_ caught him all by herself, and turned him in to the cops! Boy, that was impressive. I bet not even Captain Metropolis could have caught Axis by himself.”  
  
Matthew shot his friend a look, nose wrinkling up in a scowl. He was on the defensive, suddenly. Metropolis was his favorite hero, and Dan had essentially just said the equivalent of _he's a wuss_. “Captain Metropolis is better than any old girl any day. I bet Axis was just a lousy fighter is all.”  
He was still looking through the scrapbook, but now he made a big show of pretending he wasn't very interested.  
  
Dan stared agape at him for a moment, shocked into silence. How could Matthew _say_ that? Nite Owl was just as good as any other of the Minutemen, and _everyone_ knew that. He gripped the photo a little tighter and pursed his lips.  
“Oh yeah? Well... If Captain Axis was such a sissy, no one would _care_ if Nite Owl caught him or not. But it was in five different newspapers, so _there_.”  
  
Matthew wasn't about to be thwarted by a kid with glasses that were too big for his face, even if that kid was his friend. No way was some girl better than Captain Metropolis. “So? Captain Metropolis is the _leader_ of the Minutemen, and that means he's the best fighter. He could kick Nite Owl out, and then she wouldn't even be in the papers anymore.”  
  
“You're _stupid_!” Dan shouted it before he could stop himself. His cheeks burned red, and his face was set with a determined anger. He gripped Nite Owl's photo hard. “You don't even know anything! Captain Metropolis won't kick her out because she's the best fighter, and she could catch _any_ bad-guy, and she could even beat up Hooded Justice if she wanted!”

The other boy balked at the sudden insult, looking up at Dan with a start. For a moment his mouth worked silently, open, close, open, trying to think of a comeback. Then he stopped being surprised, and got angry. “Well if you think she's so great, you can _marry_ her! I'm going home! You're dumb and so is your new girlfriend!”  
Matthew snapped the book shut and shoved it into Dan's arms. He stomped across the room and out Dan's bedroom door, pausing to add the final blow that would end this argument. “And anyway," he taunted, "Her costume is stupid. Brown is ugly and boring, and owls aren't even cool!”  
And then he was gone. At least until tomorrow.  
  
Daniel sat on his bed with his arms wrapped around the scrapbook, lips making a thin, angry line, and tears welling up behind his glasses. He was quiet for a very long time, feelings hurt and pride wounded. The photo of Nite Owl was still in his hands, grinning wide and ready to throw a punch. He looked down at it with watery eyes.   
“Hey, Danny-boy,” Night Owl said.  
Her photo had been badly crumpled by his thumbs.  
Daniel burst into tears.


	3. 3

His teenage years are a little lonely. By now he's earned himself all kinds of imaginative nicknames, and even his best friend has chalked him up as hopeless. Daniel is officially The Bird Weirdo, Nite Owl's Boyfriend, Birdbrains, Featherhead, and Owlboy. On occasion, the other kids make hooting sounds at him, or tell him to go lay a couple eggs.   
For all of that, he's never once been called 'four-eyes'. This, he figures, is some kind of miracle.  
  
They're not actually being too harsh on him; the teasing only happens occasionally. Even on his more unpleasant days, he can really only find blame with himself. Dan agrees that it's not so much a hobby anymore as it is an infatuation. It's too bad the other kids have to find fault with that, but in the end it all rolls smoothly off his shoulders. He's easygoing for his age, and not much gets him down.  
Still, no one's too quick to hang out with the Bird-Nerd, so there's a lot of time spent on his own.  
  
While the other kids are outside playing baseball, roughhousing it, building treehouses, whatever they like to do, Daniel is usually in his room. He works on his scrapbook, because there's always new articles about the Minutemen, about Nite Owl. Sometimes he draws, too. He's not great at it, but the pictures could be worse. They're silly, indulgent things really, but he's always proud of them in the end. Pictures of costumes; always variants of Nite Owl's, but designed for boys. Diagrams of tools, gadgets. Any vigilante-centric idea that pops into his head. They're gradually getting more and more detailed, more plausible. They have their own spot in the back of his scrapbook.  
Daniel pretends it's just a way to pass the time, kid stuff that's developed out of such a long-term hobby.  
In the back of his head, this is serious.  
  
-  
  
The photo always grins up at him, still somewhat crumpled after all these years. He's kept trying to smooth it out, but it just won't go completely flat. He handles it too much for it to have stayed perfect, anyway. It's his favorite picture of her, his good luck charm.  
Sometimes it's his best friend. When the kids are playing outside, and Matthew hasn't come to visit in a week, Daniel does start to feel a little depressed. When that happens, he brings out the photo. Nite Owl always grins up at him,- _Hey, Danny-boy!_ -and just seeing her makes him feel better. How could he be lonely when his favorite vigilante has a smile like _that_?  
Sometimes the photo is his confidant. There are things that Daniel can't tell to anybody else, and times when there's no one around to tell it to. Nite Owl always grins and listens, and she's only a photo so she'll never make fun of what he says.  
  
Dan talks about school, about his parents, about how he didn't really know his mom enough to miss her, and about how his dad is busy most of the time. He talks about the drawings in the back of his scrapbook; explains the mechanics of them, and how, if built, they might be employed to fight crime. He talks about what he wants to do with his life, and is surprised to find that 'ornithology' is not the first thing he mentions.  
  
Dan's pretty sure that sometimes, he talks to the photo more than he does to actual people. He says so, and Nite Owl just smiles and smiles.

-

Like a beacon of obscene glory, the tijuana bible is just in front of him, folded over on itself and half-hidden between the hands of the older boy.  
  
To a teenager, the discovery of porn is like some kind of national secret, as if the rest of the world is totally unaware. There's always the plain-faced shock at first; utter surprise that this kind of thing exists. Then later there's a curious peek or two, uncertain if confirming what it is makes it all more interesting, or more embarrassing. After that there's nothing left but to look again, and again, battling between curiosity and excitement, versus red-faced shame. This is almost a right of passage among boys. In all of puberty-riddled history, few have made it to adulthood without at least sneaking one glimpse at a shirtless girl.  
At 17, it's no exception for Dan. He's heard his share of stories, and has, in the company of Matthew, spied on the girl across the street.  
  
But this. _This_.  
  
A lurid cartoon of Nite Owl smiles up at him from the cover of the tijuana bible. Her cowl and the top-half of her costume have been omitted from the drawing. She's leaning back invitingly.  
  
Daniel gapes at it, struck dumb by the tangle of conflicting thoughts that are suddenly running amok through his hormone-addled brain.  
  
Some younger, pure-hearted corner of him is outraged, ready to defend the heroine's honor; How _dare_ someone draw her like that! What are people doing with pictures like these? Something should be done about this!  
A more prominent part of him is staring like a moron, and seeing nothing but the exaggerated depiction of her breasts.  
The rest is his simple, unwavering admiration for the woman, and it runs only one thought through the back of his mind; _Jeeze, look at that smile._  
  
Dan's brain is going 90 miles a minute like this, and creeping up on overload. All the while the older boy is starting to shift his weight impatiently. He waves the tijuana bible in front of Dan's saucer-wide eyes.   
“Hello? Anyone in there? Shit, when you said you liked Nite Owl, I didn't think she'd make you go retarded.”  
Dan blinks, sluggishly coming back to reality. The older boy keeps talking. “So you wanna buy it or not? I got a friend who's collecting these, yanno. I'll sell it to him if you're just gonna stand there messin' your panties about it.”  
  
Daniel feels his cheeks going hot and hopes his glasses will cover up most of the blush. The older boy's casual attitude makes Dan feel stupid for getting so flustered over a comic book. This makes him blush more.  
Embarrassed beyond recovery now, Dan decides he's going to buy the tijuana bible- _just so no one does anything gross with it!_ he tells himself. -and hands the older boy five dollars. He can't believe he's paying that much for something that's only eight pages long, but he gives up the bills anyway.  
The older boy laughs and takes the money, and claps Dan on the shoulder when he hands the bible over. “Here you go, Owlboy. Try not to wear a hole through it, huh?”  
  
Daniel runs home red-faced and hating himself and five dollars poorer, but he holds the booklet like it's made of gold.


End file.
